Bark at the Moon
by storyspinners
Summary: "Seriously? I'm a werewolf, my best friend is a vampire, and we live with a ghost. I'm pretty sure any more excitement will kill me." 'Being Human series' AU Alfred/Arthur


**Note:** This is labeled complete because one-shots may or may not be added to this universe ;)

**~Bark At the Moon~**

Theme based off the tv series _Being Human_.

* * *

><p>He tried, and failed, to ignore the icy gush of wind that blew unnaturally across the side of his face. He peaked an eye open slowly and caught Matthew frantically waving his hands not but an inch from Alfred's nose. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes in an attempt to hide himself. It didn't work.<p>

"Oh good, you're up," he heard Matthew say as he rolled over onto the other side of the bed. Alfred stood groggily and headed off in the direction of his bathroom. "You're alarm never went off," the voice said again.

Alfred, who had by now situated himself on the toilet seat, sighed audibly and ran a hand through his blond hair. Without warning Matthew appeared in the small wash room, arms folded over his chest and more or less leaning on the inside of the door.

"Hey! I'm on the toilet," Alfred huffed as the other stood over him looking unfazed, "This is _me _time!"

"Well I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss your fun and exciting day!" Matthew retorted adding dramatic hand gestures on a whim just incase Alfred missed the sarcasm the first time. He hadn't.

"Seriously." Alfred deadpanned, "I'm a werewolf, my best friend is a vampire, and we live with a ghost. I'm pretty sure any more excitement will kill me."

"I resent that." Matthew had not yet moved from his place at the door.

With a roll of his eyes Alfred finished his 'me time' and stood to take a shower and continue with the rest of his morning routine. He waved a hand back at his friend, "You're dead, what do you care." Alfred missed the obvious look of distain on Matthew's face as he undressed and ran the water for his shower.

The water was only luke warm when Alfred decided he'd wasted enough time waiting and disappeared behind the curtain. Without warning a sudden blast of frigid water shot from the shower head, making Alfred jump and almost face plant outside the tub. "Matthew!" his voice cracked from a mixture of shock and irritation, "What the hell!"

Just outside the tub was Matthew, smug smile in place. "I'm sorry, Alfred, something wrong?" His voice gave nothing away, though his expression said it all, if only Alfred had the chance to see it. Despite, in fact, being dead, Matthew was tethered to this apartment and the apartment to him. Which meant it reacted to his emotions and occasionally he could manipulate things. Like turn the water heater off for example.

"Fix it Matthew! _Now!_"

Matthew let a slight chuckle escape him and replied, "Well it's like you said Alfred, I'm dead what do I care?" And with that the ghost dissipated and left his poor victim with an ice cold shower to start his day.

**xXx**

Matthew reappeared in the kitchen and situated himself on the counter next to the stove in time to see Arthur enter the room in search of his usual dark blue mug. It was almost funny to see Arthur in the mornings, his hair disheveled and in plaid pajama pants. Being a vampire meant he really didn't need the sleep, it was just one of those things that made everything seem more normal, more human, so Arthur did it.

"No work today?" Matthew asked casually, trying not to watch as Arthur emptied the contents of a blood bag into the small cup.

Arthur shook his head and took a sip from the cup as though it were nothing more than tea. They fell into a welcome silence and the sounds of Alfred's frantic movements could be heard upstairs. Arthur's eyes scanned the ceiling even though it wouldn't make him see the werewolf through the walls. "What did you do to him?" he asked, not looking at Matthew.

Sheepishly Matthew looked at the other's pale face. "He deserved it," was the only answer Arthur received.

Minutes later, Arthur and Matthew both watched in stunned silence as Alfred hectically gathered everything he would need for the day. He usually wasn't this spastic, a little messy and disorganized, but Alfred at least had some routine to the madness. Matthew glanced up at Arthur's sigh and saw a look of worry on the normally reserved vampire's face.

"You're going to be late," Arthur's expression betrayed a moment of concern before returning to one of complete indifference once again. Alfred paused in his movements.

He gave his two house mates a small smile and shrugged, "I know, I'm just..." he didn't finish. They all knew he was trying hard to forget what today was. Alfred's least favorite night that creeped up every month, and it was a far cry from fun. "Besides, Emma's giving me a ride to work today," Alfred continued, his tone was lighter in an obviously less forced way.

"Emma, from Belgium?" Matthew asked his interest peeked, and attempting to changed the rather bleak course of the conversation.

"Yes, 'Emma from Belgium'," he answered. With a roll of his eyes Alfred stuffed the final items into his bag and zipped it shut. He went to sit across from Arthur and folded his hands on the oddly green-brown kitchen table. It matched the oddly hideous wallpaper, and the odd shaped counter tops. Everything in this house was odd. Maybe it just reflected it's inhabitants. Arthur could feel the floor shaking from where Alfred was tapping his leg up and down repeatedly. "So, any plans for your day off?" Alfred asked his friend.

"Not really," he replied.

Arthur worked at the local hospital, as hematologist, alongside the other doctors, nurses and so on. Before that, he had been an RN himself, before that, a student and one time even a teacher at different schools, a bartender, a war veteran...

Arthur had a lot of time on his hands.

Matthew always wondered why though, would he choose to work in a place that was a prime spot for death, for blood; where temptation was right at his fingertips and surrounded him on every conceivable side. It was strange. Finally, one day, Alfred had asked Arthur that. Asked him why he does it. Why he purposefully puts himself through that in the hopes of maybe saving one or two lives. To which Arthur replied, "I'm tired of taking them." And that was the end of that conversation.

"You know, you could try finding something for our not so friendly ghost to do so he can _stop _destroying the house," Alfred continued with a pointed look at Matthew, who didn't respond and chose that moment to let Alfred see the proud smirk from earlier.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Well maybe I should just see what other ghosts I know are available for tea later," the sarcasm in Arthur's tone was almost tangible.

"I don't know how I feel about that," Matthew teased, "You remember what happened with Arthur's other 'ghost friend'." He was snickering slightly as he added the appropriate air quotes.

Alfred continued the reminiscing with an added nudge to one of Arthur's hands that was still holding his mug, "Yeah, I mean last time you summoned that really weird Russian guy." He made a face as Matthew shuddered.

"I did not _summon_ anyone. He just... popped up." Arthur defended himself, but truth be told their last encounter with another ghost aside from Matthew was one memory he'd rather ignore.

Matthew and Alfred were barely containing their laughter now, and Matthew put on his best impression of most of the ghosts shown in terrible horror films and added in a long, drawn out voice, "Because he was creepy~"

Then the doorbell rang, and Matthew actually jumped in his seat. Literally spooked. Arthur snorted into his mug and Alfred declared to never let the ghost live that one down ever... figuratively that is.

**xXx**

After Alfred's departure, the morning passed rather slowly. Matthew was sure it was days like these that he would give anything to just get out of the house. Technically he _could _leave, but what would he do? Go to a mall where he couldn't buy anything and watch people who he couldn't talk to. He once considered streaking through the neighborhood just because that was one thing he actually could do with no foreseeable consequences. Perhaps he could just go for a walk, though that was always his first choice of entertainment when alone. Only today he wasn't alone.

Matthew sort of _swooshed_ himself back into the kitchen from where he had wandered to. It was jarring at first, traveling like that and finding out that he could move to places when simply thinking about them. It gave him that peculiar jumping sensation in his stomach that wasn't necessarily awful, but not much fun either. Still, at least now he could _go_ places, weird feelings be damned.

Arthur had taken the liberty in his free time today to work on chores around the house that until then had been neglected. Matthew had to give him some credit, the apartment was more than fine before Alfred and Arthur moved in, but Arthur always managed to find something he wanted to change. Personally, Matthew hated this house. It wasn't his home, and who wanted to spend eternity tied to the house they died in? Currently Arthur was washing the dishes that were lying in the sink from the previous night's dinner. Or rather, Alfred's dinner since the other two didn't eat food anymore. When Matthew popped into the room Arthur didn't even flinch, and continued to rinse the last plate before stowing it safely away in the overhead cupboard.

Matthew sat back down at the table, preoccupying himself with trying to move a forgotten metal spoon, and waited for Arthur to come and join him. The vampire made his way to the wooden table and pulled the discarded newspaper in front of him. Nothing of interest had happened recently; the news was boring, bland. Normal, for all intents and purposes. The silence that stretched throughout the room was calm, not unwelcome, which was usually how silences went when he was hanging around Arthur. Alfred was the one that filled in the spaces; just being who he was and how he took up the entire room when he entered an area. After all of that, Matthew rather liked these quiet moments with Arthur, which was probably ironic since he had literally jumped for joy when the three of them first met and someone could actually see him. A vampire and a werewolf trying to fit in and find a place to live, and they just so happen to pick a place that's haunted. Fun times.

"Are you alright Matthew?" Arthur spoke up, bringing Matthew back from his musings. He shrugged back as Arthur flipped another page.

"You know what sucks about being dead?" Matthew looked up from the spoon he had been trying to push across the table for almost ten minutes now. Every time, his hand would pass right through the silver with no noticeable change. "I can't even bang my head against the table out of boredom."

Arthur shook his head and tried to repress a smile as he flipped to the next page of his morning paper. "Why don't you find something else to do," he replied, noticing that the immovable piece of cutlery was causing the ghosts an unneeded amount of distress.

"I've been trying!" Matthew said exasperatedly as he stood, throwing his hands in the air, and walking to the window in the living room. Things had been getting more stressful for Matthew, as it felt like every day he was losing ground in his goal to move on from this life. His "door to the other side" had yet to appear and the three of them were running out of ideas. He glanced through the light curtains covering the window in the front room, not being able to actually move them himself.

As he watched up and down the street, something peculiar caught his eye. "Well hello tall, dark, and creepy." Matthew commented vaguely, watching a figure almost a block away. And if he didn't know any better he could have sworn the man saw him which was insane. He _was_ pretty much invisible after all.

Curious, Arthur was at his side in the next second and looked in the direction Matthew was focusing. He tensed immediately.

"Matthew, stay here. I'll be back in a moment."

And before Matthew had a second to get another word in, the vampire was gone, and the soft click of the main door closing echoed throughout the house.

**xXx**

The crisp November air whipped around Arthur as he quickly made his way to the end of the street. The road turned onto a smaller road just passed the small cafe on the corner and Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding to an elderly woman coming out of the cafe before disappearing in the dark ally-way behind the shop. It was unusually sunny today, something that always made Arthur a little wary. Sunlight wasn't as lethal to vampires as most modern day fairytales made it out to be. Vampires evolved like any other creature, and a tolerance to sunlight was a necessary change. That isn't to say he fancied it much.

Arthur had been a vampire a long time, longer than he would ever like to remember, and time hasn't given him the best of memories. Drinking live human blood stopped being normal for Arthur now, or at least he was trying to make it that way; choosing donated blood instead. But it wasn't quite the same in all honesty and occasional slip up was unfortunately to be expected. He hated it. Sometimes it wasn't enough to just _want_ to do the right thing.

Living off of secondhand blood was as close to changing as Arthur would ever get. His job and where he worked was rather convenient, so obtaining the blood would never be an issue. Whenever he needed to restock, he could pick up an extra shift at the blood bank and no one would notice a few missing samples if they weren't specifically looking for it. And his work also meant he could rightfully study blood as well. He helped solve the mystery of several diseases over the many years. Doing his research was also how he met Alfred for the first time, over three years ago, and spurred the wish to live an at least semi-normal existence.

Arthur stopped about midway through the ally, as an all too familiar scent caught his attention.

"You really should keep your spies away from my house, Bonnefoy." Arthur spat as he turned his attention to the tall blond vampire now looking directly back at him.

"Come now, Arthur, is there need for such tone? We are your family after all," At Francis's words two other vampires took their place on either side of him. One was the dark haired watchman Matthew saw earlier, and the other a white haired menace with eyes as red as the hatred that filled them.

"You're not my family anymore, Francis, we've been over this already," Arthur began, keeping his tone purposefully arrogant, "What exactly is it you want from me?"

His old mentor stepped closer to Arthur, casually pulling a stray piece of lint from his shirt and examining it without really seeing it. "We were just intrigued by your new pet, Arthur."

Gilbert, Francis's new second in command with the piercing red irises, snorted, unable to control his laughter. Arthur felt his hands curl into fists at his sides, his eyes flashed dark with anger. Of course Francis had been watching him. He was always watching him. They were irreversibly connected by blood the moment Francis turned him and there was no going back.

But he had no right bringing Alfred into this.

"He's none of your concern-" Arthur growled, but the older vampire swiftly cut him off.

"Living with a _dog_ of all things," Francis said with disgust, keeping his own eyes locked with Arthur's, intent on getting his point across. "It's an insult to our kind. They're beneath us and yet you chose to _befriend_ one of them."

Arthur refused to answer, he's heard these arguments before. Francis pressed on, stepping closer with each word, "Sooner or later, Arthur, you will realize I'm right. And when you do I will so graciously accept you back to your rightful place in this family and by my side. And you won't disobey me again."

Arthur had played these games before and he stood defiant, like an unruly teenager as Francis leaned closer so he was within a hair's length of the younger vampire.

"Because I always get what I want, Arthur," he whispered, and Arthur had heard those words before as well.

"You've had your fun," Francis continued at a normal volume again, and backed away from Arthur who was now shaking from a mixture of hatred and fury. "I've been very tolerant with you, Arthur, but my patience will not last forever."

His eyes bored into Arthur's, leaving threats unanswered and open, promising blood, and a future far worse than death for the friend Arthur had come to care so much about, until finally the Frenchman called his audience to his side and left, leaving the bitter air to match the taste in Arthur's mouth.

**xXx**

Arthur couldn't shake the gnawing, scrapping feeling in his chest, even as his car pulled into the research center parking lot. It was ridiculous, why he was here, but he wasn't exactly listening to reason at the moment. He found his way inside the building and moved his way through the halls like he had each and every one of them memorized. If anyone he passed thought it was odd that Arthur Kirkland was roaming around the building on his day off, one sharp look had them veering the other way, minding their own business.

A left turn and then a right, down a lesser known hallway, and Alfred was _here_, Arthur knew, because it was strange how well they could sense each other, how quickly they tuned into when the other was nearby.

Finally _finally_, down a deserted corridor, Alfred rounded the corner and called, "Arthur?" as he laid eyes on his best friend. "What are you doing here? What happen-"

Arthur didn't answer him as he grabbed Alfred by his shirt once he was within arms reach and backed him into the closeted wall. It was common knowledge that vampire's were gifted with strength which enabled Arthur to manhandle Alfred like that, which his friend was obviously not pleased about.

"Hey!" Alfred yelled, but Arthur refused to release him until he made sure his friend was in one piece. His eyes scanned over Alfred as if he was trying to decode him, memorize every part of him. He had to confirm it, to physically touch Alfred to make sure he was still here, still fully functional, and just _ok_.

Francis had yet to follow through on any of his threats. He didn't believe he'd have to, and that Arthur would eventually give up, grown tired of trying to fit in with the real world and come back to them. But Arthur knew Francis, for more years than human had ever lived, and Francis was growing impatient, annoyed, which was never a good sign.

It's hard for anyone to believe why Arthur doesn't kill Francis and be done with it. It's along the same reasons Francis doesn't want to kill him. They grew up together, they knew each other so well, and yet, their views on life, on humans, on werewolves, on what is wrong and what is right, changed from being something they believed in together, what their "family" believed... to something different, to views so opposite that they clash and they fight. And maybe it was Arthur who changed, but there are some things you can't come back from. And in the end, Francis had chosen that road. Arthur had chosen Alfred.

And if Francis thought it was a phase, then he realized his mistake now, and it was dangerous. Without actually drinking live blood, Arthur wasn't strong enough to fight him, not right now.

And if it came to that down the line, Arthur wasn't sure what he would do.

There was too much history between them for it to ever end happily.

But what he had with Alfred and Matthew...

It was something Arthur never thought he deserved. But he couldn't go back now. He wouldn't. But putting his two friends in danger wasn't something he was willing to do either.

Realizing he still had Alfred held against the wall, Arthur released him, stepping back and lowering his arms a bit guiltily. His hands were tingling but Arthur paid it no mind. All of the emotions and thoughts buzzing through Arthur's head must have been showing on his face because Alfred was still looking at Arthur with concern written in his whole body. Concern and a suspicion of understanding. Alfred knew about Francis and several of the vampire's under him. Had even met the man before to Arthur's regret.

And so Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Alfred had an inkling of what Arthur was thinking or what had happened. He was more perceptive than Arthur gave him credit for.

Alfred sighed suddenly and scratched the back of his head, one of his more endearing traits that annoyed Arthur immensely because he shouldn't find it so interesting. "Guess I can never have a simple, boring day at work, huh?" Alfred said with a half smile.

Arthur felt his mouth twitch at the corners as he regarded Alfred. He tilted his head as he finally glanced away, giving Alfred a contemplative shrug as he said "No one ever really wishes for boring, you know."

Arthur felt a weight press on his shoulder suddenly, and flicked his gazed down to see Alfred's hand gripping him. His warmth bled into Arthur's shirt and he could feel it seep into him, as if it was passing right down into his skin and spreading through his entire arm. Arthur could never get used to how warm Alfred always was. It was unsettling, but not in a bad way, and Arthur didn't know what that meant in the long run.

A small voice inside Arthur's head whispered _exactly_ what those feelings meant, but Arthur had grown accustomed to ignoring that particular part of his mind.

"I-" Alfred started, but his voice trailed off as Arthur looked back up at him. There was tension as Arthur met his eyes, it snapped like a string being pulled taut, like electricity crackling with power but with no direction to go in. And then Alfred slid his hand up slightly, cupping around the side of Arthur's neck. Arthur jerked violently at the sudden touch, the flash of heat that snaked through him much stronger than the last. He could practically feel Alfred's pulse racing through his hand and Arthur distantly tired to count the beats, but he couldn't focus because it was _Alfred_.

There was a clang down the far end of the hallway, something dropping in one of the far off rooms, and the noise hit the air like a gun shot. It echoed and the ringing lingered in Arthur's ears as his thoughts wrenched back to the present.

Alfred swallowed thickly and Arthur coughed pasting the lump in his throat. They both took a step back, just breathing. In and out. Arthur could feel even the warmth in Alfred's ghost across his checks. Alfred still had his hand on Arthur, obviously not in any hurry to move it.

"I should leav-"

"Gotta get back to wor-"

They were both speaking at the same time and Alfred kind of gave a laugh at that point.

It was fine. Things were going to be fine. Obviously "non boring" things happened to them everyday, but right now, it was alright. They couldn't stand in this hallway forever, someone was bound to walk down this way eventually and they had to get back. Arthur moved to pull out of Alfred's grasp, but not fast enough as Alfred suddenly yanked him back, brought his other arm up and quickly hugged his friend with everything he had. Arthur gripped him back just as fiercely, and if it was too tight, too close, neither of them said anything about it.

Almost as quickly, the two of them pulled away. Arthur was staring past Alfred, down the other end of the hallway where voices were growing louder. He needed to leave, but his feet weren't listening to his command to move already dammit. His entire being felt like it needed to stay here, because it _wasn't_ fine, and leaving might put Alfred at risk. Even if staying was the reason Alfred was at risk in the first place.

Alfred seemed to notice his friend's hesitance and he smiled back. One of the first genuine smiles Arthur had seen all day; the kind that had him blinking and not thinking for a second. "Go home, Arthur, it's your day off," Alfred was saying and there was a hint of laughter back in his voice now.

As if finally taking orders, but from someone else, Arthur's feet moved and he started away in the opposite direction, his eyes still on his best friend. "Alright," Arthur nodded then, Alfred's smile becoming dangerously contagious. "See you at home."

Alfred waved back with a "You got it," glancing at Arthur one last time and before turning around the corner and disappearing.

The second Alfred was out of sight, that scrapping feeling swept across Arthur's stomach once again, but he pushed it down and kept walking.

**xXx**

Sometimes Alfred really hated his job. The research facility was amazing, sure, and science was always something he wanted to practice, but not like this. He wanted to be a part of the scientific world, do something that actually mattered with his time. As a kid he wanted to be an astronaut, and he had planned on doing just that all the way up until college. Then he changed. How sadistically ironic it seemed. Now he was just an ordinary custodian who watched the moon for an entirely different purpose.

As it was, today his janitorial duties consisted of cleaning fingerprint smudges off of every surface imaginable from the recent tour the company hosted in the west building. The institute did this quite often. They would bring out the exciting experiments with explosions and changing compounds to show the little kids that science was fun and fascinating. Kids were so easily entertained, and the more children that wanted to study science the better, he supposed. Well certainly not better for Alfred that is, almost everything was glass in this place, and only he was lucky enough to be in charge of cleaning all of it.

With a tired sigh Alfred moved onto the next set of display cases, and as today was obviously going so well for him, he was now apparently out of cleaning solution. Awesome. At least it was a quick fix to run to the back room and retrieve another bottle. The back room was, in Alfred's opinion, just a fancy way of saying supply closet. It had metal shelves lining the far wall with any and all variations of cleaning instruments they could ever need for the accidents that occurred in the many labs. Between the shelves and the door was a very sad looking wooden table, with a short leg on one side so that it wobbled in that just slightly, but extremely frustrating unfixable way, accompanied by two small cushioned metal chairs.

There was also a vending machine and a coffee maker in the opposite corner that Alfred had taken the liberty of bringing in to make the stifling room just a little more homey. Because coffee always made things better, especially on days like today.

Spying the cleaning solvent he needed Alfred crossed the room to reach the tall metal framework and quickly replaced the old bottle. It wasn't that Alfred had an reason to hurry back to his mediocre responsibilities, but he always was a believer in hard work even if it was something he hated doing. He paused a moment before turning around when he heard someone approaching the other side of the door. It opened with a barely audible click.

"What are you doing here?" Alfred spoke quickly, he didn't need to see the intruder to know who was standing behind him in the small back room. One of the small advantages of being a werewolf now, Alfred had a killer sense of smell. In this case, it smelled distinctly of vampire. But it wasn't Arthur. Aside from his best friend, there was only one vampire Alfred could always recognize instantly.

"So now I can't come have a friendly chat, see what's new?" a smooth voice said back, feigning hurt. Francis was smart though, more clever than most, and Alfred knew he was not just here for a little chit chat no matter what he might say. This is why Arthur had been here, he suddenly realized, and the earlier situation clicked into place.

In the next moment, Alfred had turned from the shelf where he was refilling his bottle of cleaning solution and faced the other, careful not to do anything too drastic in the meantime. Vampires were incredibly strong, more powerful the older they were. They weren't invincible by any means, no, and in fact, one of the only creatures formidable enough to fight one was a werewolf. A fully-fledged werewolf could rip through a vampire like butter, the only time they were actually kind of _scared_ of the dogs they despised.

But a werewolf couldn't control when the moon rose and fell, and Alfred wasn't changing anytime soon in the next minute or so. He gripped the back of one of the chairs, behind the small break room table, that served as the only other line of defense between him and the vampire. "You're not welcome here, and I'm too busy to play your games right now." Alfred forced himself to keep his voice calm.

"Oh, this is no game, Alfred. I'm just here to talk," Francis continued with an air of complete disinterest as he looked back at Alfred with cold, dead eyes, "But of course you already knew that."

Alfred flinched. Francis smirked. "Now sit." he pointed at the chair Alfred was griping. His hold on it was so hard his knuckles had turned white from the strain. When Alfred took the invitation after a moment of hesitation, Francis offered a soft "good boy" that made Alfred think of a disobedient pet in training.

"This is silly, Alfred, pointless really." The vampire began as he circled the table to look down on his momentary captive. "Where will you be when this is all over, what good will it have done? You are beneath him, Alfred. What he is, what he does, there's is nothing you can do to change it and when he's had enough it will be over. For the both of you." The frenchman sounded almost regretful at the end of his little speech, but Alfred knew better than to believe that.

He also knew exactly what Francis meant, and as much as he didn't want to think about it, that wouldn't change the fact that he was right. And there was nothing Alfred could do.

"You and that ghostly little friend you're hauled up with," Francis added with a vague gesture, "Arthur thinks far too highly of you. He seems to think it wise to choose _you_ over his family." Francis almost sneered at this as he continued, "I can't allow this."

Alfred remained seated as Francis turned back towards the door. "Take my warning, Alfred, and don't be stupid," he said and with a parting look the blond vampire gave him a wink. As he exited the tiny room, Francis tossed a final remark over his shoulder, back at Alfred.

"Have fun tonight."

**xXx **

It was five o'clock on the dot when Alfred finally clocked out for the night, and went in search of his friend Emma, and subsequently his ride home. Today had not been pleasant and he was more than ready for it to be over.

"You all set?" A familiar female voice called. Alfred turned and placed a smile on his face as he saw Emma walking over to his locker. She looked tired, almost as worn out as Alfred felt, but he chose not to bring up their stressful work day as they left the enormous building through the sliding glass-paneled doors.

The following car ride was just as quiet, but not unwelcome. Alfred liked that about her. She didn't need to ask to understand what most people were thinking. He liked to think that if things were different, if he was different, that they could have had something more than simply an awkward acquaintanceship, maybe something closer to being _actual_ friends.

As they approached the small house Alfred grabbed his bag from under his seat and turned to thank Emma again.

"I really appreciate all this, Emma. Thanks." Alfred flashed his most charming smile as he climbed his way out of the small black car.

Emma smiled to herself as she rolled down the window to call out after Alfred, "I'm off tomorrow," she stated, "And as much as I like you, Alfred, you're on your own for a ride to work." The words were not unkind, and Alfred knew she had already done enough for him. Besides, Alfred wouldn't be needing the ride tomorrow unfortunately. He simply smiled again, and nodded with a final wave as he ascended the stairs and watched Emma's car drive away.

"Hey, Artie, I'm home!" Alfred shouted needlessly as he kicked the front door closed after himself. He visibly relaxed as he saw his best friend walk into the front room, eyebrows furrowed at the nickname he so disapproved of.

They stared at one another for a moment. Arthur thinking about what he _hadn't_ said to Alfred before he left and Alfred thinking about what he _wasn't_ going to tell Arthur about, after he left. Arthur's fingers flexed at his sides, as if he wanted to do something with them but wasn't sure what. Alfred shifted his weight from one foot to the other, never truly standing still. The silence with thick with everything, and yet nothing.

"If you're having a staring contest, my money's on Arthur," Matthew was leaning against the wall in the doorway to the kitchen, and watching the other two closely. He liked to lean against things, or at least, give the impression he was leaning. Alfred knew he was going to ask what had them both in such a mood, so he was surprised when he didn't speak up then.

It was almost as though they didn't need to say anything. Alfred knew he wanted to explain, say something, but had no idea where to start. He shrugged slightly, and tore his gaze away to Matthew instead. The ghost raised an eyebrow at Alfred before speaking again, "You should get moving or you're going to have to skip dinner again." Matthew was obviously messing with him and Arthur's lips quirked in an almost smile.

"That's cool, Matt, you like asparagus right?" Alfred shot back as he made his way into the kitchen and grabbed ingredients haphazardly from the fridge and adjoining cabinets. And this time Arthur didn't stop his grin and it slide onto his face. Alfred inwardly whooped at that small success.

Dinner was composed of chicken made in a creamy cheese sauce with rice, and of course how could Alfred forget the asparagus. He wasn't so fond of the thin green vegetable himself, but it was kind of healthy-ish right? Not to mention the look on Matthew's face was well worth it.

"Uhm so, 'ow was yer ay?" Alfred was in the middle of literally stuffing his face with his dinner and his question went completely unanswered as his roommates stared in shock and disbelief.

"That's rather disgusting," Arthur squinted and looked like he had to collect his wits about him before he said something truly insulting.

"But you can't look away," Matthew was openly gaping at this point.

Alfred took no notice to the other's repulsion as he almost drowned himself in chicken and rice. These group meals had originally been Alfred's idea, and all three of them would secretly admit they enjoyed it. They laughed and joked, and yelled over one another as they talked about things that didn't make sense. It was in these moments that Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew were ridiculously happy, and the outside world didn't exist. Just them, and their oddly green-brown kitchen table that matched the oddly hideous wallpaper, and the odd shaped counter tops.

But as the night grew closer, things started to quiet down and that lingering feeling of dread creeped it's way into the back of Alfred's mind. He just wanted this night to be over. He wanted to wake up warm in his bed, drooling on his pillow and spend the morning like a normal person would, but unfortunately that wasn't going to happen. Finally taking a breath in between bites Alfred laid his fork on the side of his plate and looked at both Arthur and Matthew in turn.

Matthew returned the look with one of quiet understanding. Alfred would take that over pity any day. He hated being pitied. Arthur stood and carried his and Matthew's unused plates over to the counter by the sink.

He paused, bracing his hands against the edge of the counter top. "Do you need a ride tonight?" Arthur asked, even though he always gave Alfred a ride on these nights. Even if Alfred never said it, Arthur new his friend couldn't stand going alone.

None of them ever wanted to be alone.

Perhaps that's why they stayed so close to each other, because it was all they had, and they needed this. This desperate thing that could fall apart on them given the slightest push. The three of them would give anything to keep what they had, to keep each other, and it was something no one else could truly ever understand.

Alfred rose from his chair and removed his own plate before heading from the room without another word. He didn't trust his voice on these nights and he still had to grab his bag for the next day.

After the drive Arthur would head home. Not sleep this time around, too preoccupied with worry. Matthew would wander the house; pacing endlessly. The moon would rise. Alfred would change. And Arthur would pick him up in the morning, like he always did.

Tomorrow they would start again.

**THE END**

* * *

><p>There's just something incredibly awesome about Canada being a snarky ghost, and America's just too friendly, energetic, and loyal to <em>not<em> be a dog, while England gets to be a blood thirsty murderer who's trying his hand at being a good guy now. Not to mention, when America jokes and calls him "old man", it's scary true.

Title comes from the song _Bark at the Moon_ by Ozzy.


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